


The Promise of Forever

by yespolkadot_kitty



Category: Prospect (2018)
Genre: Angsty kissing, Blow Jobs, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Tumblr Prompt, Vaginal Sex, shameless angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:13:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25865701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yespolkadot_kitty/pseuds/yespolkadot_kitty
Summary: From a Tumblr ask: Can't quite believe you'd write a fic for little old me 🥰 Ezra is one of my favourites, I adore the dichotomy of the character, he's dangerous but soft, educated but unrefined. I love fics with feels, to me the emotion is what makes smut really connect. Maybe something from before he goes to the green? One final night with his lady before he knows he has to leave. Or conversely, a reunion after he and Cee escape. I'd be happy with anything at all. I know whatever you write will be amazing ❤
Relationships: Ezra (Prospect 2018)/Reader, Ezra (Prospect 2018)/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	The Promise of Forever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Heatherbel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heatherbel/gifts).



It’s been a whole year since you saw Ezra.

Sometimes you wonder if you made him up. His lick of blond hair, the languid way he speaks, as if he swallowed a sedative and the dictionary together on one wild night.

You can hardly feel the ghost of his touch any more, if you even recalled it properly to begin with.

“One last venture, Sunrise, and we’ll be set for the remainder of our days. I’ll be kneeling at your feet with my haul before you even know I’m gone.”

You clung to those words for the first few weeks. Still clung to them when the communicator crackled now and again, but no trace of Ezra’s syrup-over-broken-glass tones could be heard.

You moved aimlessly through the days at first. Nova-3 was a pleasant enough planet to make a home on - not too expensive, clean air, plentiful water. The twenty-foot trees got some getting used to, but now you found them a comforting shelter from what you knew to be the merciless expanse of space.

You knew Ezra had existed. You  _ knew _ . And not just in your heart. You had the polaroid camera - a find in a junk shop on Polaris II; and the shop owner had sold you a compatible roll of film for a pretty penny - and pictures of Ezra littered the refrigerator. His sunshine-smile, a little crooked. He joked that it was a reflection of his skewed morality. His hands, the little circular tattoo on his left one that you sometimes kissed while he slept. His big, soulful brown eyes.

“I miss you, Ez,” you’d muttered for the first few months.

Then the weather turned, the huge trees turned from purple to a deep gold, the wind gentled, the seasons changed.

You missed him still, the ache got deeper, but you felt it less, some days. His side of the bed remained unslept in, after two weeks you had to change the sheets, and they no longer smelled like him.

You cried, the first night your bed smelled of laundry powder and not your sweet Ezra.

He’d left a few pieces of clothing behind and you slept in one of his shirts until it grew threadbare, drawing comfort from his clothing against your skin. When the shirt fell apart after constant washing and wearing, you curled up a strip of the neckline and tucked it into the locket he’d given you when you’d been together six months.

“Perhaps it’s overstepping the mark, Sunrise, although I’d wager you know that  _ propriety _ and I have never seen eye to eye, but I chanced upon this and I thought of you. You have the promise of forever in your gaze, Sunrise, and I am but your humble servant, hoping for a crumb of your affection.”

You hadn’t taken it off since.

Your work continued, you’d accepted a position at the local botanist centre, cultivating new plants by splicing the seeds of herbs and flowers with healing properties. You’d made a few friends, you met them for drinks sometimes. Had even made a cocktail from one of your new plants. You’d called it the Sunrise. You knew Ezra would had laughed.

A man at the centre had asked you for dinner twice. You’d turned him down, but if he asked again, maybe you’d say yes. 

Maybe he’d touch you like Ezra had. 

You so wanted to be touched.

Then one not so special day, as the trees that passed your window had started to turn silver, signalling the start of winter sinking its teeth into the planet, your door buzzer crackled to life.

You hadn’t ordered any food. Some mistake, maybe? A lost traveller?

You depressed the button to connect. “Hello?”

A crackle, then, a girl’s voice, asking to confirm your name.

_ Must be a lost delivery driver. _ “Yes, that’s me.”

“Ezra asked me to bring him here,” the girl said into the comm.

Thank Kevve you hadn’t been holding anything. You would have dropped it. “Wh- what?” You  _ must _ have misheard.

The girl repeated herself. “Can we come up?”

“I’ll come down.” You took your finger off the button and your hand was shaking. You took two deep breaths, pocketed your keycard, and hurried down the stairs.

You yanked open the front door.

The girl before you gazed at you with a clear, steady gaze. She wore nondescript clothes - jeans, a plain salmon pink sweater.

And leaning heavily on her was  _ Ezra. _

“Kevva,” you whispered, your heart leaping into your mouth. Ezra’s eyes lifted to yours, that soulful brown just like you remembered.

“Sunrise…” he murmured, but his voice was low and weak. No quick quip, no crooked smile.

“He needs to rest,” the girl interjected.

“Of course. Come in.” Your mind whirled with what their relationship might be, and as you swiped your keycard into the elevator slot to open the doors, you noticed that Ezra’s right arm was  _ missing. _ His button-up shirt was loose, open three buttons down, the grey not injecting any colour to make his pale face any brighter. The right sleeve was tied neatly.

You pressed your lips together. Should you touch him? The girl seemed to have a handle on it, and confusion and sadness twisted your stomach.

The elevator pinged open four floors up, and you busied yourself opening the door to your home - yours and  _ Ezra’s _ home - and holding it open.

“I’m Cee,” the girl said matter-of-factly, and you hurried over to help her lay Ezra on the couch once you realised her intent. Just touching him made a hot burst of serotonin flood your veins. “Took him to a doctor yesterday and they patched him up, but he refused to stay there more than one night. Wanted to see you.” Her lip curled in that teenage way. “He won’t shut up about you.”

“He does talk a lot,” you agreed, and Cee smiled slightly.

Unable to wait a moment longer, you dropped to your knees and smoothed your fingers over the blond tuft of hair on his head. It felt as soft as you remembered, and your heart turned over. “Ezra.”

He opened those bottomless brown eyes and met your gaze, and a sob wracked up your throat. “My… deepest apologies.. For the delay…. Sunrise.”

And upon hearing his voice, by far the most  _ integral _ part of him, the dam broke, and you buried your face in the crook of his neck and sobbed, hearing your own voice crack like dry ground under the sun too long.

“I’ll, um, come back later. Gotta, um…. Yeah,” you vaguely heard Cee say, and somewhere in the back of your mind you registered the door closing behind her.

You cried for moments that stretched, breathing him in, your hand on his chest, just feeling his heart beating against your palm.

After a time, Ezra’s remaining arm curled around you, and you felt his fingers playing in your hair.

“Soft as spun sugar, Sunrise. I remembered you right.”

And those words made you cry harder, press yourself into him. “I was beginning to think I made you up,” you choked out, hearing your own voice clogged with tears and emotion so heavy it dragged at your limbs. “I thought maybe I’d never see you again.”

Ezra huffed softly. “Know that it was ever my most acute intention to return to you, Sunrise,” he murmured, kissing your hair.

Your hand wandered to what was left of his right arm. “What happened here?”

His face twisted. “Returnin’ to you in such a state pains me more than you can know,” he bit off darkly. “Regrettably, it was the arm or my life. Cee did a good, clean job, and the doc we saw yesterday patched me up further.” His hand clenched on your neck reflexively. “I… will understand if you no longer find me-”

Words failed you, because there was no universe where you would  _ not _ want Ezra, this perfect puzzle of a man with his measured speech and bottomless heart and eyes that were like looking into his soul. You interrupted his words with a kiss. Your first kiss in an entire year of heartache, of tears, a whole  _ year _ of empty beds and foggy memories.

Ezra opens for you, and you taste him, cheap, black coffee with too much sugar, and a moan escapes you, and you wrap your arms tight around him.

“Ezra,” you sobbed, brokenly. “You came back.”

“Always. It was my greatest fear, shuffling off this mortal coil without seeing my Sunrise one more time.”

And his words made you cry harder  _ again, _ making his face wet with your tears, but he doesn’t complain. He takes what you dish out, and his arm stays tight around you.

“Tell me about Cee,” you asked, when your tears had started to run dry.

“The tale is a long one, and I fear at this moment in time, my energies would be best spent…. Elsewhere.” He smiled, and his gaze flicked down his body, and you followed the path of those hazelnut eyes and saw his cargo trousers tenting.  _ Oh. _

“Cee… said you should rest,” you hedged. “Don’t you need rest?”

“Not nearly as keenly as I need you, Sunrise. Almost four hundred days I’ve dreamed, fantasised, Kevva, even  _ prayed _ for this moment. Don’t make me wait a heartbeat longer. I beg you.”

His quiet plea broke you. “Shall we… I mean… the bed?”

His mouth crept up into that crooked little smile you adored. “Too far, Sunrise. Couch is surely wide enough.”

And then in the space of the heartbeat he’d mentioned, you pulled your clothes off. The gentleness, undressing him, re-learning every inch of his body, that would keep for later, when you’d both slept wrapped around each other, when you’d fed and watered him and convinced yourself that he was truly, truly back.

Right now, if he wasn’t inside you in the next thirty seconds, you weren’t entirely sure you wouldn’t die from the desperate, clawing need for him.

Naked, you crawled over him, held his gaze as he lay sprawled on the wide couch. You used to spoon here regularly, of an evening, watching a vid on your screen and projector, Ezra warm at your back, providing a running commentary on the film because  _ of course  _ he never shut up.

“Sunrise,” he whispered, his voice cracking, and you bent to kiss him. His hand came up to fondle your hip as you trailed your fingers down to his cargo pants.

“Velcro fly. I like that.”

“The events that transpired have rather.. Forced my hand, or lack thereof, when it comes to sartorial choices. I-”

His words cut off, ending in a low, anguished groan, when you tugged him out of his pants, hard and aching, and fisted him, revelling in the way he jerked in your palm.

Ezra bit off, “Sunrise, this is gonna be over before the first act, if-”

And you positioned him and slid him home.

Those gorgeous brown eyes rolled back in his head and his fingers clenched hard on your hip as you sank all the way down. You both gasped out loud from the white-hot pleasure of it. You kept kissing him, bracing yourself up on one arm, licking into his mouth. You’d never get enough of him until the day you died. 

You’d known it the first time he kissed you, and you knew it now.

The couch creaked beneath you as you set a punishing pace, taking him in until he bottomed out before sliding almost off him, repeating the process. The stretch felt  _ divine, _ and Ezra’s throaty growls confirmed that he agreed.

“Your cunt has ever been without equal,” he rasped out, voice husky-edged, raw with emotion. “Faultless. Paradisiacal, and my hand - my right hand, that was, never could compare.”

“Ezra,” you groaned, feeling your muscles fluttering.

He slid his palm, gun-calloused and rough, over your leg, resting his fingers at the apex of your body “Sunrise, I fear that I am yet to become acquainted with pleasuring myself, let alone  _ you, _ with my left hand-”

“Just touch me, Ez,” you bit off. “Anywhere. Everywhere. I don’t care how. Just-”

And then he  _ did, _ and the third circle of his fingers on your clit was all it took for you to explode, your muscles milking him hard,

Ezra bucked up into you, biting his lip as he spilled inside you, his gaze dark and hot on yours. You welcomed the little shudders of his cock inside you as you slid bonelessly on to his chest. His button-down smelled like it had come fresh from a laundrette.

He panted beneath you and you curled around him, your fingers teasing the hair that curled at the nape of his neck. “Ezra.”

He dropped a kiss on your forehead. “Sweet girl. As I stared the grim reaper himself in the face, my only thought was that I would never again get to hold you like this.”

You snuggled in, listened to his heart beat under your ear, and slept.

*******

When you woke, you jolted, panic.  _ Ezra. _ A dream?

But no, he lay beneath you, breathing softly in sleep, his hair tousled. You studied the healing, scarred tissue of what remained of his right arm.  _ The tale is a long one, _ he’d said. What could have happened on The Green, and how had Cee been involved?

“If those thoughts reach just a few decibels higher, Sunrise, I’ll need ear defenders,” Ezra drawled.

You sighed in mock-annoyance. “It’s no wonder Cee brought you back to me. Got tired of you running your mouth, I expect.”

His lips curved in a slow smile. “I expect.”

“Come on. A bath.”

You helped him to the bathroom, undressed him slowly as he sat on the closed toilet lid, kissed every inch of skin you unveiled. Mapped the old scars and the new ones with your fingers and then your lips, until he leaned against the wall, eyes closed, mouth slack. His breath came in pants when you took him in your mouth and relearned his curves and ridges, the way he sounded when you licked his sensitive underside, the heaviness of his balls in your palms.

“Sunrise,” he growled, and his hand fisted in your hair.

You squeezed his thigh, giving silent permission, and licked him like an ice pop, a move he’d once said drove him to the brink of madness. It did again, and you swallowed everything he gave you, until he cupped your cheek and encouraged you to pull off him.

“Ezra,” you whispered, a little hoarse.

The bath had finished running and you helped him into it. Once seated, Ezra held out his hand to you. “Come.”

The single word rather than the fifty he usually spouted gave you pause. He looked  _ tired, _ spent. You gestured for him to scoot forward and climbed in behind him, bracketing his legs with your own, then leaning back against the cool, high slope of the bath edge. You combed your hands through Ezra’s hair until he leaned back, too, sinking a little into the water, his head on your chest.

He sighed, long and low, as you began to wash his hair, slicking your hands with the cypress and rosemary soap he’d been using when you met; it would ever remind you of him whatever happened from here on out.

His hair clean, you massaged his scalp, drawing out little groans from his lips. You look down; his eyes have drifted closed, so you let yourself play, wandering his body with your fingertips. Parts of him are leaner, but he still has a softness to his belly that you adore. You clean his skin diligently, stroking over the old scars and the new ones, learning the new topography of the man you love. Ezra breathes in and out steadily, and you’d think he was asleep if you couldn’t feel his fingers idly caressing your thigh, the little circular tattoo in faded blue ink standing out against his tanned skin.

You tell him without words how much you’ve missed every inch of him as he relaxes bonelessly against you. You stroke your fingers over his flat nipples, gently soap the happy trail from his belly button to his cock, until he’s squeaky clean everywhere.

When he’s murmuring about sleep, you let the water out, help him stand, dry him off.

While he lies in bed, his face drawn, the delicate skin under his eyes dark with fatigue, you warm him some plant milk with protein powder in, coax him to drink.

“Tastes like the elixir of Kevva herself, Sunrise, after months of that processed excuse for chocolate flavoured nourishment on The Green,” he mutters when he’s finished. You set the empty glass aside and crawl in next to him. Ezra lays on his back and you snuggle up to his armless side, drape yourself over him.

“Sunrise. It’s my fondest wish to sink myself inside you again, but-” He yawns hugely. “I fear pleasures of the flesh may have to wait a little longer.”

You lean up, kiss his scruffy jaw. “And I want to hear all your tales. But for now, sleep. We have the rest of our lives, right?”

“With Kevva as my witness, I never plan on straying more’n a heartbeat from you ever again,” Ezra drawls, half-yawning again. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and his next breath comes out as a soft snore.

All is right with your world, and you breathe in his scent, cuddle into his warm body, sleep the sleep of the happy.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
